The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-12-24

he had chosen it, farthest from the quar-
tiers and stables of his troop, simply be-
cause it was at the end of the row, over
looking the valley, and nearest her. Two
weeks since he had said to her that he
could not rid himself Of the thought of
her isolation. Though off the beaten track
a full three-quarter mile, and within long
carbine range of the sentries, she was still
far away, almost unprotected Though
Indians were no longer to be feared, there
were such things as tramps and blackguards
in the settlements. She laughed at his
fears. She had lived there three years,
and never heard sound at night other
than the occasional howl of coyote and
the distant watch cry of the sentries. She
had brave old Malloy with his gun, and
Bridget with her tongue and nails; she had
Philips sword, her own brave spirit, and
her boy: what had she to fear?
All the same, struggle against it though
she would, it was sweet to hear his anxious
questioning. Even if unmolested by ma
rauders, something might 60 wrong
Maudie have Group, kerosene lamp burst.
She might need help. Who knew? II
shall put bright lamp and reflector in the
little round garnet window every night as
soon as l get home" he said, sand should
you ever be in danger or need, throw a
red handkerchief over your biggest lantern,
and show it at the top window. If the
sentries don't see il at once, fire Malloys
gun" She promised, laughingly, though
repudiating the possibility. She had told
herself that Philips spirit was all the pro-
lection she needed; but the night landscape
of the valley, the night lights at the fort,
had acquired of late an interest they never
knew before. She would have scourged
herself had she believed, she would have
stormed at any one who suggested that she
went to look for his light; but if ever it
failed to be there, at ten or eleven or later,
she knew it. Whatever might be his
evening occupation at the fort-a dinner,
u card party, officers school, "noncoms.
rccitation-it was his habit on reaching
home to 90 at once to the garnet and post
his sentinel light. What would he not
have given for an answering signal?
And there was the light now. He was
home, then, and despite her anger and his
Punishment, he was faithful. Christmas
Eve, and only ten, and he was home and
watching over her. She was still quivering
with wrath at him for that ravished kiss
at least she told herself she was, and had
told him great deal more. Was it quite
fair to drive him from her home, as she
had, when Phil was so fond of him and
Maudie loved him SO, and he was so devot-
ed to them? What could he be doing at
home so early? There was party at the
Adjutant's, she knew. She had been
obliged to decline. She had three invita-
tions for Christmas dinners, and had said
no to all, gratefully. There were many
who wanted to be kind to her, but she had
only one dress she considered fit to wear,
so too had little Maud, and as for her brave
boy Phil, he had nothing-unless the suit
from Chicago came in time. Without
that he could not go to the Captains
Christmas tree. Why did not the messen-
ger return? She was becoming feverishly
anxious.
1t was too cold to remain out-of-doors.
She re-entered, and paced fitfully up and
down her little parlor. She went in and
bent over her sleeping children, and rear
ranged the coverlets with the noiseless
touch of the mothers hand; she leaned
over and kissed them softly, and now that
her surcharged nature had had free vent,
and the skies were cleared by the morn
ing's storm, she felt far gentler, happier
Her cry had done her good. Her hope
fulness was returning-but not the mes
senger. What could detain him? Where
could he be? 1t was eleven, and long af-
ter, when at last she sighted shadowy
horseman Looping across the moonlit plain,
and slowly he dismounted at her gate and
came to her-empty handed He was a
soldier of yane's troop, and his tale was
doleful He had been set upon in a sa-
loon, robbed, and beaten. The money was
gone, he had brought back nothing but
bruises. As consolation be impaired the
fact that twas too late to get the doll and
! carriage. The last ones had been sold that
evening, as she had not come to claim
them. Then he had stepped in to take a
drink, because he was cold, and then the
catastrophe had occurred. True or false
as might be the story, there was no doubt
OF the veracity OF that portion which re-
ferred to the drink. Conscious that it was
too late to do anything at this hour, she
simply dismissed him, bidding him 90 at
once to the post, barred and locked her
door, and sat down, stunned and heartsick.
This, then, was the joyous Christmas for
which she had worked SO long and hard!
She raised her arms 10 one last appeal to
Heaven then threw herself upon her knees
beside her little ones, and buried her face
in her quiyering hands. What would
their early waking bring to them now but
disappointment? For half an hour she
knelt there helpless, stunned Then lifted
her head-startled.
Somebody was fumbling at the storm
door With her heart in her throat, she
listened, incredulous, fearful, then couvinc-
ed The boards creaked and snapped be-
meath heavy, stealthy tread She heard